


Counting down the days till we are one

by amako



Series: ShikaSakuWeek Hanami 2018 [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Courtship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mental Health Issues, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Rape/Non-con Elements, always angst with me, honeypot mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:17:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako
Summary: She comes back from the mission with bruises around her neck and sluggish blood on her teeth. She hands over the report and goes to Ichiraku. Four bowls of ramen later, the blood has stained her chopsticks and she feels alive again.





	Counting down the days till we are one

**Author's Note:**

> Day Two: Blood/Sweat
> 
> My day was terrible, thank you. I have a habit of writing terrible things to compensate. Is it weird to say I really like what I wrote? We'll see.
> 
> Please, pleeease listen to Grizzly Man by Rockettothesky while reading it. Without it, you rob this story of half of its soul.

She comes back from the mission with bruises around her neck and sluggish blood on her teeth. She hands over the report and goes to Ichiraku. Four bowls of ramen later, the blood has stained her chopsticks and she feels alive again.

_(at first)_

He signs up for honeypot missions. They send him to Kiri where he whores himself to twin sisters. They leave him bruised and bloody but not before he's snatched from them the scroll he was after. He comes back to Konoha limping but smiling.

_(it's only a beginning)_

She finds herself kneeling in the mud, removing handfuls of maggots from the rotting stump of a sixteen-year-old. The boy looks at her like she hang the moon in the sky. He dies with foam on his lips as the poison she slipped into his drink finishes the job. Hours later, she finds a fat, white worm in her noodles. She stares at it for an hour, entranced.

_(washed in sepia colours)_

An old woman stumbles and falls on him. He catches her and she slips a note in his yukata sleeve. When he goes to the address, a grinning hooker takes him to a room and shows him what he'll need to know for the next mission. The taste of leather stays in his mouth until he's in Suna, smiling shyly at the puppet master he's sent to kill. It takes him half a day to get out of the restraints, once the man has dropped dead, strangled by shadows.

_(before it turns rusty)_

The woman is begging her on her knees, her hands protectively wrapped around her round stomach. She's as deaf to the pleading as her kunai. The commoner chokes on her own blood while she removes the baby with care. She hands it over to a smirking father who looks at the wailing thing with bloodshot eyes. She goes home and plays with the naruto slices in her bowl.

_(then it begins to morph)_

The girl is trembling as he walks up to her, naked. His hand comes to her shoulder and he stirs her toward the bed. Her mother is sitting discretely behind the bamboo screen, the delicate opening meant for surveillance darkened by her stare. He kisses her neck and pushes her to the covers. She whimpers. He looks at her freckles and tries to see constellations in them.

_(and the rust starts to drip)_

She scratches her cheek, where the dirt is itching her. The three men in front of her try to recover their breath. She blinks, almost bored. Then she starts cutting again. They scream. It's loud. She cuts a little more, hoping they'll get quiet. Then she remembers she's supposed to make them talk. She scratches her cheek again. She's hungry.

_(slimy red)_

There is a fake cock in his mouth. It's a bit too large and he's having trouble breathing. He has to appreciate the detail on it, though. It tastes bitter, just like a real one. With a bit of luck, it won't hurt as much as the ones he's used to, when the noble uses it on him later.

_(it was just a beginning)_

 

She washes her hands until the water runs clear, dries it on a fluffy, white towel, and tucks back a pink hair strand behind her ear. Her mouth is painted bloody, her skin pearly white. The kimono is gorgeous, _hagi_ colours just like tradition demands. The pins in her bun make a charming noise as she walks out of the bathroom. Even the restaurant looks delightful, earthy tones and autumn gold.

His kimono is _kiky_ _ō_ , a perfect match to hers. He bows deep as she kneels in front of him, the varnished wood reflecting the trinkets in her hair. Diner is lovely, a combination of raw fish and vinegared rice, sea weed complimenting each dish. They exchange pleasant conversation, asking how the other has been doing since they last saw each other.

It's the third stage of courtship, so he takes her to the gardens where they walk up to the pond. He asks formal permission to enter a relationship with her, and she grants it with a delicate nod of the head, meant to display the back of the neck and the promises it brings.

They part ways with a shallow bow each and plans to meet each others' family.

_(just a beginning)_

It takes her almost an hour to get out of the kimono, to remove every last pin in her hair, to take off the make-up and rub off the flowery perfume. She has one foot out of the bathroom when he jumps through her open window and starts undressing. Her step never falters as she marches up to him.

She snarls in his ear and he throws her on the bed. Her arms wrap around his waist as he hovers over her. Her teeth are showing when she growls orders to hurt her. His nails leave bloody paths on her arms, before one hand wraps around her throat. She groans and hits his forearm, spitting that he's getting softer. That he should hit her harder. So he does. His elbow meets her nose and she comes when it breaks on impact.

She's gasping, the blood dripping in her mouth. She spits on the ground and wipes it, healing it just enough for the blood to clog. She doesn't touch the fracture. Instead, she wipes her hands on the sheets. Then she brushes the tip of her fingers against his neck and he lays slowly on the bed.

She kisses his jaw, drawing soft patterns on his chest. Her mouth leaves a trail of breaths and kisses, of soft reassurances. She presses her ear on his heart and listens for a few seconds, her palm caressing lazily his hip. She lowers herself slowly on him and tugs at him until he's sitting up to. She wraps her arms around his shoulder and kisses his brow, before moving her hips.

Her words are quiet and gentle in his ear. Her hands lit up green and she soothes an ache in his back. Her nose draws a star on his pulse. She breathes his name and he comes with a shudder. She doesn't move. His arms embrace her until every centimetre of their body is touching. She starts rocking slowly and he buries his nose in her neck.

 

_(y ou’re mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.)_

 


End file.
